Fade to Black
by Archica
Summary: Draco escapes from Azkaban to get revenge on the girl who sent him there. Written in response to a DHr fanfiction challenge.
1. Prologue

Fade to Black: Prologue 

Notes: I know the title is a Metalica song, but it has nothing to do with the song itself. It's just that the title fit the story too well. This fic was written in response to the Draco/Hermione Valentine Gift Fic Exchange held on Livejournal. There were certain stipulations to follow. This is the first time I've ever written in response to a request, so I'm a bit nervous. Thanks for reading. 

She sat nervously on the hard wooden bench, her fingers knotting themselves tirelessly with the hem of her robe. She eyed the floor beneath her feet. A door in the back of the room opened, and chains rattled as a figure walked in. Hermione looked up to peer at the boy. Suddenly her stomach lurched and she had an inexplicable urge to dash out of the room and hide away under her covers. But she couldn't do that. After all, she was the prime witness in this trial. 

Draco Malfoy was wrapped in chains from head to toe, and the sight of him bound up so tightly, with wide silver eyes and messy hair, made him look like a wild animal. The image seemed strange to Hermione, since he'd always appeared so neat and organized before. She felt sick again, nausea washing over her in waves. Had she made a terrible mistake? Did he deserve this? 

He scanned the room full of judges and other important people until his eyes fell upon her. They narrowed, just like they always had when he looked at her, only this time the color flashed with his anger and hatred. Hermione flinched, wishing she had Harry's invisibility cloak to crawl under. 

An old wizard stood up and began presenting evidence that Draco was a Death Eater. Finally he called Hermione to the stand, and it was all she could do to hold down her breakfast as she took her seat behind the small podium, facing Draco. 

"Miss Granger, is it true that you were witness to Mr. Malfoy using the Dark Arts?" 

Hermione tried not to look at Draco, to focus on anything else in the room, but her eyes were always drawn to him. She nodded and quietly said yes. 

The wizard was pacing back and forth in front of her. "And, Miss Granger, could you please describe this incident to us?" 

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well… I was walking back from Hagrid's cabin one evening, toward the castle, when I saw a flash of light coming from the edge of the Forbidden Forest…" 

She paused and once again unwittingly glanced at Draco. He was glaring at her. The wizard stopped right in front of her. "Please go on, Miss Granger." 

She cleared her throat again. It seemed that she had a lump there that just wouldn't go away. "I decided to take a look, to make sure there was nothing wrong or that no one was hurt or lost, so I walked toward the light. When I got close enough, I saw Malfoy standing in the middle of a circle he'd apparently drawn with a stick on the ground… he was holding his wand… and there was green light coming from it." 

The wizard slammed his hands on the wooden podium beside Hermione. "Green light!" he yelled toward the judges, "Is this not the color of the Dark Arts?! And the circle on the ground, upon inspection by several respected professors from Hogwarts, turned out to be a drawing typically used in performing the Dark Arts. Here, we have a witness that places Mr. Malfoy _in the middle of that circle_, and using magic that emits a _green light_! And I need not remind you that Mr. Malfoy's father was a convicted Death Eater himself!" 

Hermione was nearly trembling in her seat. She remembered clearly the night that she had seen Malfoy near the Forbidden Forest, and had ran as quickly as she could to tell Dumbledore what she had seen. She had been sure he was performing some horrible spell to hurt, possibly even kill, Harry. The professors had rushed to the scene, though Malfoy was gone by then. Because of Hermione's account, Malfoy had been arrested and put on trial, and Hermione had been called in to testify. 

Since that night, she had worried herself to the point of becoming ill. What if she had made a mistake? It was dark, maybe it wasn't really him. What if her eyes had played a trick on her and the light hadn't really been green? What if she was now responsible for sending an innocent boy to Azkaban? Of course, Harry and Ron had assured her that she was right, that Malfoy deserved to be imprisoned and that he was no doubt a Deatheater who had followed in his father's footsteps. It was seventh year, after all, and Malfoy was certainly old enough to take on that position. 

Suddenly the wizard turned to Hermione. "That is all, Miss Granger. You may take your seat." 

Hermione stood up and stepped down from the witness stand. She had to walk by Malfoy's seat to get back to her place, and she stayed as far to the other side of the wall as possible. Though she tried very hard not to let them, her eyes were once again drawn to him, only to find his blaring into her. 

Before anyone could realize what had happened, Malfoy had leapt out of his seat and knocked Hermione to the ground. He was laying on top of her, using his weight to pin her to the ground. His face was so close that the tips of his hair brushed her cheeks. "I'll never forget this, you lying, filthy Mudblood! Someday, I'll kill you for this! Wait and see!" 

Several wizards pulled him away from her, though he struggled and screamed at her, trying to fight his way back toward her. The wizard who had questioned Hermione yelled above the shocked crowd. "Isn't it obvious that this boy is a danger to society?! Such acts of rage and violence are trademarks of those involved in the Dark Arts! In these dark times, we must not allow any who support He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to walk the streets freely!" 

The judges hastily nodded in agreement and sent Malfoy away. As he was dragged out of the room, his screams could be heard by all. "I'll bloody kill that Mudblood! I'll hex her till there's nothing left but a bloodstain!" 

Hermione was shaking. She'd never seen Malfoy like that, so out of control and violent. She knew he hated her, had even wished for her death on occasion, but she'd never seen him act on those feelings. She was terrified. A witch from the judge's area came over to her. "Don't worry, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy will be in Azkaban for a very long time. He won't be bothering you." 

Just as this was said, the door Malfoy had been dragged out through burst open. Malfoy was standing in the doorway, one hand free from his chains, holding a wand. He pointed it at Hermione and everything fell silent. She saw his lips moving, but couldn't hear anything. A vivid green light flew from the tip of his wand and came spiralling toward Hermione, striking her squarely in the chest. She fell to the ground, and everything went black. 


	2. Chapter One

Fade to Black: Chapter One   
  
Hermione woke up suddenly, her body shooting straight into a sitting position in her bed. She was sweating, and her hair was matted against her skin. She put her hand on her forehead and tried to calm her breathing. 

She frowned. "Not another nightmare," she moaned, climbing out of bed. The events of that trial three years ago still haunted her, though the last scene of Malfoy casting a curse on her had been added by her own fearful dreams. Not a day went by when she didn't think about that day and remember Malfoy's eyes gleaming with rage, his hot breath on her neck. 

She rarely spoke of it with Ron or Harry. Ron always over-simplified the matter by saying "Don't worry, the git deserved it. He won't be back." Maybe he was right, but turning something that bothered her so much into something so simple and unworthy of thought irritated Hermione. Harry, on the other hand, would probably listen to her and try to genuinely ease her mind _if_ she ever talked to him about it. But since Harry had killed Voldemort two years ago, he had been so happy and carefree. She just couldn't bring herself to cause him any worry over things from the past. 

Hermione fixed herself a cup of tea and sat down at her kitchen table. She lived in the wizarding world now, and had grown accustomed to the lack of technology. Her parents visited often, though they were always quite eager to return to their own home, where they had television and telephones. 

But Hermione herself had many ties to this world now. Her closest friends were here, as well as her promising career as an Auror. She became one only months before the defeat of Voldemort, and at first had thought her job would become useless. However, there were many crimes to be committed in the wizarding world that did not necessarily involve the dark lord. And there were also several Voldemort-supporters left roaming around that had to be dealt with. Hermione found her days filled with things to do, and told herself that she had to keep her head on straight, had to keep focused on the here and now, instead of that awful trial years ago. 

She showered after finishing her tea, skipped breakfast and pulled on her robes and cloak. She locked the front door before leaving for the Ministry. She always walked to work, since she lived fairly close by and had never been overly fond of travelling by broomstick. It also gave her a chance to get some fresh air and fully wake up before beginning her day at work. 

She was met at the door of the Ministry by Ron, who stood leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His face was dark, his eyes narrowed. He rarely looked this way, only when they were given a very serious case, or when someone had been hurt. "What's wrong?" she asked, stopping beside him. 

"I wanted to tell you myself… didn't want you to hear it from someone else." 

She blinked. "Tell me what?" She suspected that they had been assigned some horrible case that would require a lot of work or danger. She and Ron almost always worked together on their cases, as he was an Auror as well. 

He walked a few steps away from the door, and motioned for her to follow. 

"What's going on?" she asked, trailing behind him until they had rounded a corner. 

He reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He reached it to Hermione wordlessly. She clutched the worn parchment in her hands, fingers white and trembling against the brown paper. Dark eyes roamed over the words several times, making absolutely sure that what she was reading was real. She looked up. Her voice had failed her, though her eyes were asking "Is this true?!" 

Ron looked disturbed. "I just… thought you should know before… before anything happens." 

Hermione's voice returned. "Before what happens?! Before he hunts me down and kills me?!" 

Ron took the paper back. "Before you end up getting assigned to bring him back in," he said firmly, "Not that I'm sure you will, but it's a possibility. Look, I know the guy gives you the creeps ever since that incident, but you're an Auror now. He's not stupid enough to attack an Auror." 

"Oh, the _incident_. The _incident_ you absolutely refused to take seriously! The _incident_ where Draco Malfoy told a room full of people that he'd come back to kill me someday! Well, now he's escaped! Don't you think I have a right to be worried?!" 

Ron stared at her. "Hermione… please don't get upset. Yes, you have every right to be worried, but we're not going to let anything happen to you. It's been three years, he probably forgot all about that promise! And besides, when has Malfoy ever been known for backing up his threats?" 

Hermione was still breathing hard. "When has Malfoy been known for completely losing it in front of a crowd of people?" 

"Point taken." 

Hermione took the parchment back from Ron and scanned it again. "So how did he do it? The notice doesn't say." 

"No one's sure yet," Ron told her, "They figure he had outside help. Always had a bunch of lackeys, remember?" 

Hermione nodded. Suddenly her head was spinning. Why did this have to happen? How in the world had he managed to escape? She was dizzy, so she pressed her hand against the stone wall for support. Pink fingernails clashed with gray. 

Ron leaned toward her. "Hey, are you okay?" 

She stepped back, ignoring the nausea sweeping over her. "I'm fine. I have to… I have to…" 

Suddenly Hermione felt as if she were all alone in a dark box. Everything was black and silent. She couldn't even hear her own voice. She reached out her hands, unable to see them, and began trying to touch something, _anything_ to let her know that she wasn't completely, utterly alone. When nothing could be found, she fell to her knees. She was shivering without being cold. She had no wand, she couldn't even feel the clothes on her body. It was only her, and the darkness. 

In the next second, she opened her eyes again to find herself back at the Ministry. Ron's hands were firm on her shoulders, shaking her. "Hermione! What happened?!" 

She looked up at him, then around the area. "I… don't know. I think I blacked out." 

Ron released her. "Does this happen a lot?" 

She rubbed her forehead. She was almost afraid to blink, afraid to find herself back in that empty place again. "Occasionally. I used to do it a lot right after… the _incident_. But I stopped after about a year." 

"After about the time Voldemort was killed," Ron said, "Well, a lot of people were suddenly feeling better after that. You think Malfoy's escape is causing them now?" 

"Probably." 

Ron looked around, to make sure no one of importance was near. "Look, why don't you take the day off? I'll say I never saw you come in today. Just go home and get some rest. Or better yet, go visit Ginny. You probably shouldn't be alone, and she loves company. How about it?" 

Hermione hesitated, then nodded. "All right. I'll go see her. Could you use the fireplace and let her know I'm coming? I hate to drop in so suddenly on her." 

Ron smiled. "Ginny doesn't mind, but I'll do it anyway. Oh, and after work, let's go see Harry at Hogwarts. I think he should know about all this too, don't you?" 

"Yeah. Well, I'm off then." 

Ron watched her out the door, then headed for the fireplace. 

Hermione was walking toward her home. She wanted to change out of her work robes and into something more comfortable. Then she would use floo powder to go to Ginny's house. On her way, she wondered whether or not she should tell Ginny about her black-outs. She knew she could trust the girl, but Hermione got shudders just thinking about that dark, lonely place. Talking about it was even worse. 

There was a shrub bed right outside her house. She heard a rustle in it, and turned around. "Crookshanks? Did you get out?" she asked, paused in front of her door. She almost leaned over to investigate the sound, but thought better of it and reached into her robes for her keys. She unlocked her door, opened it, and was inside the door before she felt arms around her waist. 

The owner of the arms was behind her, and gripping her tightly. Turning around was made impossible. She struggled against the arms, clawing at the exposed white skin of hands peeping out from beneath long dark sleeves. Finally, blood was drawn and the arms released her. 

Hermione dashed further into her house, desperate to put some distance between her and the other person. She then whirled around. Draco Malfoy was standing in her doorway, examining his injured hands. He looked different, with his shoulder-length, messy hair and thinner-than-usual skin. But he was still impossible to mistake. Dark silver eyes glared at her. "You cut me, you Mudblood bitch." 

Hermione backed away from him until she hit the wall. Her wand was in her robes, but how fast could she draw it? Did he have a wand? Was it easier to draw than hers? She told herself to calm down and try to learn more about the situation. She could panic later. "How did you find me?" she asked, her voice quivering. 

"Oh, please. Like I would have any trouble with that. You're not in hiding, Granger." 

Hermione watched him with unblinking eyes. She had to note every move, every word, if she hoped to get out of this alive. She was a firm believer that learning everything you can will always lead you to better results. "How did you escape?" 

Malfoy had shut the door and locked it behind him. Her keys had fallen to the floor, so he picked them up and shoved them into his pocket. "Do you honestly think I'd tell you that?" 

Hermione's mind was racing. What could she do? She couldn't die here, at Malfoy's hands. Maybe she could buy a little time! Ginny was expecting her, so surely she would alert Ron after a certain amount of time, and he would head straight over to check on her. Thank God she lived so close to the Ministry. After that, it would be two against one. Malfoy wouldn't have a chance. 

"Malfoy… I'm sorry. Really, I shouldn't have went to Dumbledore that night without getting your side of the story! I was just scared! I thought you were trying to hurt Harry! Please… let me go to the Ministry and tell them I was confused that night! I'll tell them anything to get them to release you officially!" 

Malfoy frowned at her, then quickly closed the distance between them, and before Hermione could react, he had punched her in the face so hard that she was thrown to the floor. "Shut up! You're a liar and a conniving little Mudblood! You'll say anything to save yourself! You think I'm that stupid? You think I'm going to let you just walk right out of here and to the _Ministry_?" 

Hermione pulled herself to a sitting position on the floor and rubbed her cheek. "Okay… okay… I'm sorry. That was a bad idea. What do you want me to do? Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you." 

Malfoy laughed, and Hermione was surprised that it was the same laugh he had in school. Somewhat high-pitched and very menacing. "I'll tell you what you can do. You can die a slow, bloody, painful death!" 

Hermione's mind was thinking _Slow? Slow is good. Slow gives me time. Malfoy doesn't know Ginny is expecting me. Good, take your time._

Malfoy was sneering at her, his pale lips widening into a creepy grin. "Do you have any idea how much planning and thought I've put into this? Three years' worth! That's how much time you've stolen from me. You sent me to Azkaban, effectively ruining what was left of my life. Apparently you and Potter weren't satisfied with my father rotting away in prison and my mother hanging herself in her bedroom. So you came up with a good plan, didn't you? Frame me for using the Dark Arts and then sending me off to join my father!" 

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Frame?! What are you talking about?!" 

Malfoy crouched in front of her. "Don't pretend to be stupid. You may be a Mudblood, but you have some common sense floating around in there somewhere. I know what you did! It may have taken me a year in Azkaban to figure it out, but now I know you, Potter, and Weasley had this whole thing planned from start to finish!" 

Hermione was trying to scoot farther away from him. The whole left side of her face was throbbing. "I swear, I have no idea what you're talking about! Harry and Ron had _nothing_ to do with this! The only thing I know is that you were standing in that circle holding your wand and-" 

Draco put his hand over her mouth. "Stop right there! That wasn't my wand!" 

Hermione stared at him, unable to speak. Her eyes were wide and shocked. What did all of this mean? Was Malfoy telling the truth? Was he really innocent, or was he simply playing a very clever trick on her? Perhaps he wanted her to feel extreme guilt as well as the pain of the death he planned for her. But if he was telling the truth… then she had truly ruined his life. How could she live with herself after this, even if Ron were to show up and help her overpower Malfoy? 

A tear leaked from Hermione's eye and landed on Malfoy's hand. He pulled it back and glared at her. "Don't even try faking innocence!" 

She looked up to find Malfoy digging around through her house. "Where are your scissors?" he asked, looking through a kitchen drawer. 

Hermione saw this as a wonderful opportunity. "They're in my bedroom, in the third dresser drawer down." 

Malfoy stepped hurriedly to the next room. Hermione scrambled to her feet and reached into her robes. She pulled out her wand and readied a spell in her mind. She aimed at the doorway to her bedroom. This would be absolutely perfect! Malfoy would come strolling out of the bedroom and be caught completely off-guard! Hermione could hex him and simply be done with the matter. 

A few minutes passed, and Hermione heard the distinct sound of hair being snipped. Malfoy reappeared with slightly shorter, jaw-line length hair. She mentally laughed at his still-present vanity. When he laid eyes on the wand, he stopped dead in his tracks. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"I believe I'm pointing my wand at you. Goodbye, Malfoy!" 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak the spell, but Malfoy spoke before she could. "So you're going to keep it up? You're going to ruin my life, then kill me?" 

Hermione froze. "I… I'm not going to kill you… I'm just going to stun you until I can contact the Ministry." 

"Oh, yes, just send me back to Azkaban so I can spend the rest of my years rotting away while you enjoy your life out here." 

Hermione stared at him. She wished more than anything that she had the ability to read minds right now. If only she knew if he was telling the truth, she would make it her life's goal to clear his name. After all, she was directly responsible for this mess. But if he was lying… he would take her wand away from her the instant she let her guard down. 

He was staring at her, his expression somewhere between anger and disbelief. He opened his mouth, and spoke slowly. "Do you have any idea what it was like in there? It was completely dark, no light. They kept me in confinement… I was alone twenty-four hours a day! You sent me there, and now you're going to send me back!" 

Hermione's hand was trembling, and the wand wavered. The way he described Azkaban, it sounded just like her blackouts. She had no way of proving it to him, but she did understand. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Could she really send him back, after knowing all of this? And if she didn't, she'd have to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. 

She was staring at Malfoy, but his face was becoming blurry. She was getting dizzy again, and a sudden terror hit her. She was going to black out. She'd drop her wand, Malfoy would kill her, and she'd never wake up from that nightmare. She opened her mouth. She wanted to stun Malfoy, to at least give herself more time to awaken after blacking out, but her voice was soundless. The last thing she could see was Malfoy's face. 


	3. Chapter Two

Fade to Black: Chapter Two 

Hermione awoke to nothing. There was no light, no sound, no smell, and nothing to touch. Instinctively she reached her hands out in front of her, a useless effort, though it gave her hope. She walked, slowly at first, praying yet again to find something, anything. Even years ago, when she was blacking out more often, she always searched her nightmare land for whatever might be there. She just couldn't bear the concept of utter emptiness. Something _had_ to be in here with her. And she had to find it. 

Her pace quickened as she began to panic. She wondered what was going on in the waking world, if Malfoy had killed her yet or if Ron had stormed her house. She shivered in her fear. Suddenly, while her arms were wrapped around her naked shoulders, she realized something. She felt cold. She felt _something_. This had never happened before. Her black outs had always been completely neutral, never cold or hot. Her skin had never felt sensation while in this dark place. Something was different about this time. Something that scared her. 

She walked faster and faster until she broke into a run. She knew she was panicking and at this point she didn't care. Tears of frustration were leaking from her eyes, though she kept running straight. Even running, she still felt cold. It was a deep-down cold, a chill creeping up and down her spine and then landing in a knot in the base of her stomach. 

And as Hermione fled through the darkness at top speed, she finally collided with something. There was a distinct thumping sound, the only noise she'd heard besides the sound of her own feet moving across the unseen, unfelt floor. She was knocked to the ground. 

She heard something else, something moving, thrashing around. Whatever she had ran into was _alive_. Finally a voice muttered "Lumos!" and for the first time in her life, there was light and vision in her blackout. 

Malfoy's pale face, illuminated eerily by the glow of Hermione's stolen wand, peered at her. "Granger?! What the hell is going on?!" 

Hermione was speechless. How had this happened? How had Malfoy ended up in here, with her? The shock wore off long enough for her to make a coherent sentence. "I… don't know." 

Malfoy took a step back and lowered the wand, to get a better view of her in her position on the floor. "Oh bloody hell… you're naked!" 

Hermione realized this too, and quickly put her hands over herself, making every effort to hide her nudity. She kept waiting for him to turn around, or at least look away, but she reminded herself that he was not that decent. He stared at her. "Can I please borrow your robe?" she asked, her tone very formal. She was trying to preserve her dignity. 

Malfoy took another step back. "Why should I help you?" 

"Loaning me a robe is _hardly_ helping me. Don't you feel the least bit awkward?" she asked, her face red and flushed. She just wished he would stop looking at her. 

Malfoy grumbled, muttering something that wasn't quite audible to her ears, as he pulled off his outer robe and threw it to her. She wasted no time pulling it on and tying it tightly together around her waist. "How did you end up here?" she asked him finally. 

He gave her an incredulous look. "You're asking me? You're the one who brought me here." 

"Brought you? What are you talking about?" 

He sighed, and in the dim light she could see his exasperated expression. "You were pointing your wand at me oh-so-threateningly, when your eyes rolled back in your head and you started to fall over. I grabbed your arm, to get your wand away from you, and your other arm grabbed mine. Next thing I know, I'm here, wherever here is." He looked around, then back to her. 

"I don't know what happened. I didn't intend to bring you here. I didn't even know I _could_ bring anyone in." 

He frowned. "So? Where are we?" 

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself again. "I'm not sure. I black out a lot, and when I do, I always end up here. This is the first time I've even been able to hear my own voice here, much less see anything or talk to anyone." 

Malfoy pointed the wand at her. "Well, you better be figuring out how we get back to the real world! There's no way I'm staying here with you!" 

Hermione looked at him curiously, then it hit her. He couldn't kill her while they were in here. As far as he knew, he could be stuck in here forever if she were to die. She could definitely use this to her advantage. She'd just bought herself a lot more time. 

Malfoy had found a blank gray wall, and was leaning against it. "How long do these things last?" 

Hermione was sitting on the floor again. "It varies. Sometimes just a few minutes, sometimes hours." 

"But never more than hours, right? Never days." 

Hermione nodded, watching him. He was fiddling aimlessly with her wand, his hands shaking very slightly. He was nervous. He didn't like it here. Of course, she thought, it reminds him of Azkaban. Dark and quiet and lonely. She didn't like it either. 

Only minutes later, Malfoy had stepped away from the wall and was standing over Hermione. "Okay, just wake up." 

She blinked. "What?" 

"I know what you're doing. You're buying time. You cast some kind of spell on us. So drop the act and wake us up!" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about. If it were that simple, I wouldn't have been _naked_ would I?" She said dryly. 

Malfoy was expressionless for a few seconds, his eyes examining her. "Maybe it was part of your act. Maybe you planned to seduce me into dropping my guard." 

Hermione laughed, unable to hold in the hysteria of the very idea. She was holding her side. "Oh… Malfoy… that's absolutely ridiculous! What kind of person do you think I am?!" 

He squatted down in front of her, the wand still pointed at her chest. "I think you're a very clever Mudblood who's brain is always working up schemes to further her own ends." 

Hermione stopped laughing all at once. "Further my own ends? What sort of schemes are you talking about?" 

"Well, let's see… sending me to Azkaban, thwarting my attempts to get revenge… do I really need to spell them out for you, Granger?" 

Hermione took a deep breath. "Look, I did not _plan_ to send you to Azkaban! I honestly thought you were trying to curse Harry! I told Dumbledore, thinking you'd get expelled at most. The next thing I knew, they ordered me to testify at the trial! I tried to get out of doing it, I even tried faking sickness! I didn't want it to go that far, and I never dreamed it would!" 

Malfoy stood back up. "You're lying." 

Hermione stood up too. "Prove it." 

For several seconds, the two of them stared at each other, Malfoy glaring and Hermione looking defiant. Then Malfoy walked away to stand by the wall again. He was looking increasingly nervous as the minutes rolled by. Hermione almost felt guilty for taking an inch of pleasure in it. Neither of them spoke until an hour had passed. 

"This is ridiculous!" Malfoy yelled, slamming his fist into the wall behind him. 

Hermione was staring at the black floor. "I thought so too, the first time I came here," she said quietly. 

Malfoy was rubbing his bruised fist. He spoke absently. "Yeah? When was that?" 

Hermione looked him in the eyes. "The day you were sent to Azkaban." 

Malfoy had no response for this, other than looking back to his hand wordlessly. 

Hermione went on. "Do you really plan to kill me?" 

"Of course I am. I broke out of Azkaban and tracked you down, didn't I?" 

"But you haven't done it yet," she said. 

He looked at her again. "When have I had a good opportunity to?" 

"When I was unlocking my door this afternoon, when you had me cornered in my kitchen, now…" 

"None of those were good for me," he said. 

"Why not?" 

"Why are you so bloody nosy?!" 

Hermione was standing a few feet away from him, staring. "What's wrong with being curious? It is my death we're talking about." 

"Just shut up, alright? You're annoying enough just sitting there being quiet, but if you're going to talk the whole time I'll pop a blood vessel!" 

Hermione tilted her head, looking at him in an examining way. "Why are you always so mean? That's what started everything in the first place. You were mean to Ron." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"That day… the first day at Hogwarts… You tried to be friends with Harry, but you insulted Ron. I was right behind them, I heard the whole thing. That's why Harry rejected you." 

Malfoy's face had disgust written all over it. "Potter did _not_ reject me! And I wasn't trying to be friends with him! I was just introducing myself… and if I remember correctly, it was Weasley who first insulted me!" 

"He did not!" Hermione said. 

"You were _behind_ them, Granger! You didn't see the face he made when I said my name! How was I supposed to react?" 

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I'm sure there was a better way." 

Malfoy stood up straight, away from the wall. "I don't have to listen to this," he told her and began walking away. 

Hermione watched as the light faded with him. Everything was getting dark again. She shuddered. "Malfoy, wait!" she cried. 

There was no answer, and the light only got farther away. "Malfoy! You can't just leave me here! What if we can't find each other again?!" 

The light was almost invisible now. Hermione ran after it, but once she turned a corner, it was gone. Everything was dark and black again. She panicked, crying out Malfoy's name and whirling around in search of the light. Her troubled mind wondered if he had found a way out, or if he had put out the light just to scare her. Either way, the light was completely gone, vanished into the all-engulfing darkness. 


	4. Chapter Three

Fade to Black: Chapter Three 

Hermione suspected that she was running in circles, but with no light she couldn't be sure. All she could do was run and run until she woke up, or found something else. If she had brought Malfoy in, maybe she had brought someone else in as well. She doubted it, however. 

She was on the verge of going insane. This was the longest a blackout had lasted in years. She had been here for three hours now. Tears were pouring down her face and he legs were cramping. Her stomach felt uneasy. She was making herself sick. Finally she stopped running and collapsed to her knees. She was sobbing, her arms wrapped around herself and her body shaking with her anguish. She was going to die in here, or worse, be trapped in here forever while her body was killed by Malfoy. 

She felt something then, pressure upon the top of her head. She opened her eyes and saw a familiar glow. Malfoy was squatting in front of her, with his hand on her hair. He looked disgruntled. "Would you please shut up? I can't even think with you crying like this." 

Hermione's eyes were wide, gaping at him in shock. He hadn't escaped! He was still in there with her after all! She wasn't alone. The sudden emotion was overwhelming, and without thought she threw herself against him, clutching his robes in her trembling hands and burying her face in his chest. 

He fell backwards, surprised, and she lay on top of him. "Hey… what are you doing!" 

Hermione felt his hands on her shoulders, waiting for him to shove her away. But he didn't. He simply held her, uneasily as if he didn't know _how_ to hold her. She pulled back. "I'm sorry… I just thought I was alone. I couldn't handle being left alone in here again, like all those other times." 

Both of them sat up, facing each other. The wand was laying beside them, still glowing. Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "You said 'all those other times'. How many times has this happened?" 

"Oh, many times. Many many times. For a whole year after… after they started, it happened at least once a week." 

"And you never saw a doctor for it? Or talked to Dumbledore?" 

Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned her face on them, looking at him sideways. "I couldn't. I was afraid they'd call me insane and have me locked away." 

"Not much difference, to be honest," Malfoy said distantly, looking at his hands in his lap. "Azkaban was a lot like this. Only it was twenty-four hours a day, and no one to talk to at all." 

Hermione's eyes were wet again. Her voice came broken and whispered, as if she could no longer hold in her fear. "Tell me, Malfoy… how could you stand it? How did you hold onto your sanity?" 

He looked at her, somewhat taken aback by yet another show of raw emotion from his enemy. Such uncontrolled feelings made him uneasy, having been brought up in an atmosphere that encouraged utter control over such things. "For the first few weeks, I thought I _was_ going insane. I thought I had nothing left. I had no future, even if I ever did somehow get out. What kind of life is there outside Azkaban for a convicted Death Eater? But then… I found something to hold onto." 

Hermione leaned closer to him, trying to see his face clearer in the pale light of the wand. Her voice was still small. "What was it? What did you hold onto?" 

Malfoy sighed and looked up thoughtfully. "I made plans. I decided, after a few weeks, that I would escape. I knew it would take a long time, years even, but I had to do it. And after I got out, I planned to bust into Gringotts, take out all the funds my father left for me, and leave the country. I would live on a small, unpopulated island where I could exist in peace and luxury." 

"And what about me? And Harry? Didn't any of your plans involve us?" 

Malfoy looked at her again. "… Yeah… I planned to get revenge on you for sending me there in the first place. As for Potter, I really wasn't concerned with him. I had far more important things to think about than him. Like what I could piece together of my own future." 

Hermione's mouth was open, and new tears fell down her face. "Malfoy… you really didn't do it, did you? You were innocent…" 

Malfoy's eyes grew impossibly narrow. "Haven't I been saying that this whole time! I told you, the wand I was holding that night wasn't mine. And I certainly didn't draw that damn circle!" 

"But then who's wand was it? And who drew the circle?" 

Malfoy shrugged. "How should I know? I was supposed to meet someone there that night, but when I got there I saw the light from a wand just lying there. I picked it up to check it out, and that's when you came along. I knew you'd go straight to Dumbledore, so I threw the wand into the forest and ran back to the castle. I didn't even _know_ about the circle until later." 

Hermione was shaking. "Oh… God… Malfoy, I sent you to Azkaban! I didn't know… I had no idea!" 

Malfoy scooted closer to her. "Hey… calm down, alright? You can't loose it till we get out of here!" 

"How can I calm down! All this time… you hated me and wanted to kill me for a good reason! Always before, I didn't care that you hated me for stupid reasons like being Muggle-born. I just told myself you were an idiot, that it didn't matter. But now… you have every right to hate me!" 

Malfoy sighed. "Look… I believe you, okay? You can shut up now." 

She looked up. "What do you mean?" 

"I believe that you didn't set me up. I'm not saying I forgive you, or that I ever will… but I might skip on killing you, alright? So stop crying." 

Hermione was shocked. "But… what are you going to do? Even if I tell the Ministry that I believe you now, there's no way they'll release you based on that." 

"I'll follow my plans. _If_ you ever wake up and get us out of here." 

Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry. This is all because of me." 

"You're right. It is. But you're the only one who can get us out." 

Hermione slumped against the wall. "I wonder… how I brought you in…" 

Malfoy shrugged. "Probably because we were touching when you blacked out." 

"No, that's not it," Hermione told him, "Earlier today, I blacked out while Ron had his hand on my shoulder. I didn't bring him in." 

"Weasley, huh? I expected that." 

"What do you mean?" 

Malfoy smiled smugly. "I knew you and that moron would end up together. He was always so easy… all I had to do was pick on you to get his blood boiling." 

Hermione frowned. "Ron and I are friends, nothing more. And I can't believe I was nothing more than a tool for you to use against him!" 

"Not just him," Malfoy corrected, "But Potter too. He was furious whenever I hurt you. They were both easy. I could do something to you and kill two birds with one stone." 

Hermione blanched. "You… you're really a terrible person, aren't you?" 

Malfoy laughed. "It was fun. The look on their faces whenever I came out one step ahead of them…" 

Malfoy suddenly stopped laughing. "But then… it wasn't fun anymore. It was something more personal, when Potter sent my father to Azkaban." 

Hermione felt uneasy at the mention of the topic. She didn't know what to say in this situation. She couldn't bring herself to remind Malfoy that his father belonged in Azkaban, that he deserved it. Right now, she owed Malfoy an incredible debt. She remained silent. 

"I had a lot of ideas after that," Malfoy continued, "ways I could get revenge on Potter. A lot of them involved you." 

Hermione stiffened. "Should I even ask what they were?" 

Malfoy looked her in the eyes. "The details would make you run away, but let's just say I was willing to taint myself for the purpose of hurting Potter in the most extreme way." 

"Taint … yourself?" Hermione asked, though she already knew what he meant. She felt more nervous now. Here she was, alone in the dark with a boy who had once schemed to rape her for the purpose of hurting Harry. Finally, she spoke again. "Why didn't you do it? Why didn't you go through with any of your plans?" 

Malfoy looked back down. "Because somewhere along the way, I realized that I'm not my father. I can't go that far… I can't give up who I am, just to further a goal. I thought I could. I thought I could be ruthless, like him. But in the end, I couldn't do anything." 

Hermione smiled. She put her hand on his shoulder, slowly and hesitantly, unsure of how he would react. "I'm glad you're not your father," she said. 

Malfoy snorted. "Because it saved you from a lot of pain?" 

Hermione shook her head. "No, because you're a better person than he is." 

Malfoy pulled away from her. "Not really… I tried to kill you, remember?" 

"No you didn't. You couldn't do it, could you? You had plenty of chances." 

He frowned. "Don't go jumping to conclusions." 

"I'm jumping to the truth, Malfoy. You couldn't kill me, just like you couldn't kill Harry. Even though you hate us, you're not a murderer." 

Malfoy's pale cheeks were tinted pink. "Will you shut up? You're going to make me change my mind." 

Hermione laughed. "You're embarrassed!" 

Malfoy folded his arms and looked down. "You're the most annoying Mudblood I've ever met, Granger." 

"When will you stop calling me that?" 

"When all the Muggle blood has been pumped out of your body." 

"That would kill me." 

"Exactly." 

Hermione stood directly in front of him. "So, in your eyes, I'm dirty just because I'm alive? How does that make sense to you?" 

"Hell, I don't bloody know! All I know is, you're not Pureblood. The way I was taught, that makes you dirty." 

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Who are you trying to live up to now, Malfoy? Your father will be in prison for the rest of his life, your mother is dead, Voldemort is dead, the Deatheaters are no more. Can't you start thinking for yourself now?" 

Malfoy's eyes flashed, the same way they had that day in court, and in a whirl he had shoved Hermione to the wall and pinned her against it. "Don't you dare speak of my family! You have the nerve to say these things to me when you condemned me to Azkaban! Have you forgotten that, Mudblood?" 

Hermione was frozen. She realized too late that she had been out of line. She should have chosen a better way to say that. But it was too late now. Malfoy was furious, and she had no idea how to curb his anger. She only looked at him. 

He stared back at her, rage in his face. "I _can_ think for myself. And I still think you're a filthy Mudblood. But I'm dirty now too, aren't I? I'm a fugitive, because of you. You brought me to your level. It doesn't matter anymore, does it?" 

Hermione was breathing fast, nervous. "What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying, I could fuck you right here and now, and it wouldn't matter. I'm already tainted. I have nothing to loose." 

Hermione's eyes were huge. "Why would you do something like that? Just to prove to yourself that you don't care anymore?" 

Malfoy leaned in, his face close to hers. "Maybe I've thought too much about it over the years. Maybe all those plans to hurt you melted into something else." 

Hermione's body was trembling. "What else?" 

"Desire." 

Hermione's heart was thumping painfully in her chest. What was going on? Malfoy hated her, he always had. But now he was attracted to her? She didn't understand. Sure, she found him attractive as well, but it was only surface beauty. She knew he was ugly on the inside, that he was a snake of a person. She never even entertained the very idea of it. And even now, he only wanted her so that he could satisfy some sick, forbidden, schoolboy desire he'd harbored for years. He wanted to touch a Mudblood, to explore a Mudblood, to taste a Mudblood, simply because he'd always known that he _couldn't_. She would be merely a personal triumph for him, his last rebellion. 

She shoved him away. "You just want to use me to fulfill some demented fantasy!" 

"Maybe. But not just any Mudblood would do. Granger, the only Mudblood I want to fuck is you." 

"Why!" Hermione screamed. 

"I don't know," he told her honestly, "But every time I imagine taking a Mudblood, it's always you. Maybe it's because I hate you so much, that I think about you so much." 

Hermione had her back against the wall. "I can't do it. I can't have sex with someone who hates me." 

Malfoy stepped back to her, closing the distance slowly. "What about someone who's thought of nothing but you for the past three years?" 

"… What?" 

"The entire time I was in Azkaban, I couldn't think of anything, or anyone, but you. I hated you so badly that I wanted to completely destroy you. I wanted to do anything in my power to hurt you. And at some point, I guess I became obsessed with you. You were in my dreams, in my nightmares, and I saw your face every time I closed my eyes." 

Hermione was trying to take it all in, but she still didn't understand. "But… you still hate me." 

"Maybe I do. But I want you even more than I hate you. Haven't you ever thought about it?" 

"No, I haven't! I spent three years terrified that you would escape and come back for me! I spent three years tearing myself apart because I wasn't sure you were guilty! I spent three years coming to this hell, just because I couldn't handle the reality of what had happened!" 

Malfoy took a step back, holding the wand so that he could see her face. It was paler than his, and tears were streaming down her face in unbarred currents. He had no idea she had suffered this much, almost as much as he had. They had both been broken by this, only he had made the mistake of assuming he was only one. "Granger… it's over. None of that matters anymore. I'm out of Azkaban. I'm free. I'm going to live on an island. You're going to keep being an Auror and marry Weasley. Everything that happened three years ago is a memory. You don't have to come back here anymore." 

In a sudden flash, Hermione was standing in her kitchen. Malfoy was in front of her, holding her wand. She blinked. "We… we got out!" she cried. 

Malfoy was looking around. "You're right. I guess it worked." 

"What worked?" 

"I realized that you were blacking out because you felt guilty for sending me to Azkaban. Somehow, in the back of your mind, you probably suspected that I was innocent. So, your conscience was punishing you by sending you to a place that was similar to where you had sent me." 

"And where was that place?" she asked. 

"Not sure. I suppose it was created by your own fears. But you couldn't stop going until you could let go of the guilt. All I had to do was convince you that you're forgiven." 

Hermione smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. "You forgave me… for doing something so awful…" 

Malfoy smirked. "What makes you think I wasn't just trying to get out of there? Now that I'm out, you can go back all you want. I don't care." 

Hermione stared at him. "You're lying. You can keep that attitude if you want, but I know the truth." 

Malfoy's smirk disappeared. "Alright. No need to put on a show then, right? So you remember what I said back there… about wanting-" 

He was cut off by the sound of a fist slamming against Hermione's front door. Ron's voice yelled through the wood, "Hermione! Are you in there? What's going on? Ginny said you never made it!" 

Malfoy pointed the wand at the door. "That's Weasley, isn't it? He'll throw me back into Azkaban in a heartbeat!" 

Hermione looked back and forth between Malfoy and the door. Finally, she put her hand on Malfoy's arm and took the wand. "No, he won't. In fact, he'll have no idea that you're here." 

Malfoy looked at her curiously. "You mean you're going to lie to Weasley, of all people!" 

"You keep acting as if there's more to us than friendship. There's not. There never was, and there never will be. Ron is _married_, Malfoy." Hermione ignored Malfoy's wrinkled nose and practically dragged him into her bedroom. "Stay in here until he's gone. Then you can make a break for it." She walked out and shut the door behind her. 

Malfoy stood with his ear against the door, listening as Hermione assured Ron that she was fine, that she had simply fallen asleep and lost track of time. He couldn't believe it, she had actually chosen to help him, had risked breaking the law. 

She reappeared minutes later, looking a little disheveled. "He's gone. You can escape now." 

Malfoy didn't know what to say, so he nodded to her and walked out of her room. "I'm heading for Gringotts. It'll probably draw attention, but I have to get my inheritance. Then, I'll disappear." 

Hermione wanted to ask "Where are you going? At least tell me," but she didn't have the courage. There was no way he would tell her. Revealing such information could be dangerous. She simply watched as he laid her wand on the kitchen table and straightened his cloak. 

"Well… I'll be off then," he said, looking at her with a peculiar expression. 

Hermione shocked herself when she grabbed hold of his arm. "Malfoy… do you still want to touch a Mudblood?" 

Malfoy blinked. "What?" 

Hermione put her hands on his face, stood on her tip-toes, and kissed his lips. It was a deep yet short-lived kiss, one that left her heart pounding in ways she didn't understand. 

Malfoy stared down at her, then gave his trademark smirk. "Well, with enough of that, maybe I can purify you." 

Hermione smiled breathlessly, watching his back and he walked away from her house, and seemingly out of her life. It would be agonizing months later before she would begin to adjust to the fact that Draco Malfoy had saved her from her own nightmares, confessed that he desired her, and then left her life in the blink of an eye. And just as she began to get used to it all, a snow-white eagle owl landed on the kitchen window sill with an envelope in its beak. 

The envelope was blank, but inside was nothing more than a hastily scribbled address. She wasn't sure where it was, but the name of the country definitely sounded like a tropical island. With enough research, she could find it rather easily, as well as the person who sent her the letter. 

Hermione smiled to herself, clutching the letter in her hands. When she was ready, she would pay him a visit. And maybe this time, she could meet his desires. Maybe, just maybe, she would stay. 

The End. 

Many thanks to my beta reader Ananya. :D


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